and the heat is burning wild
by KingofNeon
Summary: A trifecta of very nice times, caused by an aphrodisiac (ch1: marco/ace, ch2: sabo/ace, ch3: marco/sabo)
1. Chapter 1

**[text] How are you feeling? I might have put something in your toothpaste… w/ aphrodisiac** requested by anon

**warnings/tags:** aphrodisiacs, unknowingly ingesting aphrodisiacs, dub-ish con (in that they don't talk about the aphrodisiacs before hand) multiple orgasms, nipple play (ish), coming untouched, coming in pants

**ship:** mar/ace, mainly ace tho lol

* * *

Ace groans, clutching at his head as he stumbles into his bedroom. He feels all sweaty, and prays he isn't coming down with the flu; Marco'd promised him a surprise, and Ace can't enjoy surprises if he's sneezing and coughing up phlegm every three seconds. He leans against the doorframe for a minute, the world spinning in a way that makes him dizzy before it seems to settle. Then, he hears his phone beep, and he groans, trying to coax himself into walking again.

Marco was out, some fancy dinner that he couldn't get out of even thought it was their night, and Ace wished that he were back. Having Marco stroke cool hands across his forehead would feel amazing right now, and even if they had to put Marco's surprise on hold, just being together was always nice.

Besides, Marco had promised to stay in the suit until Ace could strip him, and Ace had so many plans for Marco's pretty silk tie.

His phone beeps again, and Ace pushes himself off the doorframe, stumbling into the side of his bed in an efforts to make it to his bedside table. The sheets feel so nice- so cool and soft-

He shakes his head, knowing that people didn't usually text or call him unless it was an emergency, and manages to grab his phone with only a little fumbling, finally collapsing on his bed when he has it. The screen is blurry, words swimming in little black and white shapes, and he heaves in a breath, feeling his chest rise and fall and sweat streak his sides. Even the sheets are starting to get hot, and he knows he'll have to move soon lest he lay in a puddle of his own sweat.

**[MARCO] **How are you feeling?

**[MARCO]** I might have put something in your toothpaste.

He groans, tongue tracing his teeth, and the faint sweetness he'd mused over in the bathroom earlier comes back, tingling on his lips. His hands shake as he fumbles for his phone, and he rolls over, trying to press his hot chest against the sheets. His nipples, hardened into red, sensitive buds, catch against the sheets, and a gasp flies from his throat before he can stop it.

He whines, squirming, but that only makes it worse, and he closes his eyes tightly, face screwed up as he pants, breath coming in hard, hitched gasps. Ace has to force himself to stop, muscles tight, and thankfully when he opens his eyes again the words have stopped swimming so much and he manages to type,

**[ACE] ** what did you do?

**[MARCO] ** I did say I was sorry for not being there. And that I had a surprise.

He groans, fidgeting again, and whines escape him before he can make them stop. Every part of him is burning, sweet and hot and sensitive, and the sheets are starting to feel so good, blissfully, blissfully cold against his skin. His phone slips from his grasp and he finds himself clenching at the blankets, rutting uselessly as pathetic whimpers escape his mouth. It hurts, but it hurts so nice, it hurts in a way that has him biting his lip, squirming against the sheets for more pressure, and then he's coming in his pants and his thighs are cold and sticky.

But he's still hot.

And he's still hard.

Holy fuck.

Ace whines again, questing hand barely managing to grab his phone admist the tangled sheets, and his hands shake as he types out,

**[ACE] ** what the fuck was your surprise?

**[MARCO] ** I just wanted to make sure you wouldn't get bored without me

He moves, slow and steady against the sheets, heedless of how sticky his pants are, the friction and the cold bliss on his aching cock, and clenches his hand hard around his phone when he comes again. Useless noises build in his throat, and he curls up, thighs clenched tight as his cock pulses. Marco's little call icon shows up on his screen, and he heaves in a shaky breath before he answers, trying to move as little as possible but feeling his breath hitch as sheets slide across his tingling skin.

"Ace?" Marco asks, so smooth and easy, and Ace whines at the sound, wrapping his hand around his cock. He shudders, knowing the grip is too tight, but not wanting to cum yet again in less than a minute.

"Come home," he begs, and is surprised with wrecked his voice already sounds.

"Oh pretty boy," Marco says, sounding pitying and sad and Ace whines, desperate, "you know this meeting is important, I told you I couldn't get out of it, yoi."

Ace chokes, hand clenching even tighter around his cock, but cum is already dribbling over his knuckles, and his toes curl, stomach clenched tight to stop himself coming. "Please, Marco-"

"Ah, Ace," Marco says, chiding, and Ace swallows it back, hips snapping into his hand. He comes again with a hitched sob, and Marco makes a soothing noise through the phone, crackly but sweet. Ace's heart is pounding, sweat staining the sheets, and the room feels too hot, stuffy and humid against his skin. "I'll be home when I can. Be a good boy for me, hm?"

Ace whines slowly, head in a jolting nod, and Marco seems to take his silence for the agreement it is. "I love you," he says, and Ace can't help but scoff.

"I could use more than just that right now," he retorts, head tilted back and shoulders pressed into the bed as he tries to resist the urge to jerk himself off again, and Marco laughs.

He hangs up, and Ace is left to squirm.

* * *

**thoughts for marco when marco gets home lol:**

**ace and his face is stained with tears and he's begging so easy and his pajama pants are a fucking mess and he's red faced and sweaty and stillstillstillstill writhing on the bedsheets and marco kisses his open, panting mouth and ace can only whine, latching on to Marco's shoulders and digging his nails in so he doesn't touch his cock again bc jfc it hurts. and marco manages to get him off just by palming/kissing his chest and ace just sobs bc he's so oversensitised at this point.**

**Marco has scratches on his shoulders for weeks and Ace won't talk to him abt it bc he's grumpy but he keeps the toothpaste**

**ofc also fun to think abt accidentally misplacing the tooth paste and marco uses it and ace is laughing at him and teasing him relentlessly and marco's trying not to make a sound but also holy fuck that stuff is effective. trying to fuck ace but he's barely able to move and so ace does all the work and gets marco off so many times and in so many ways that marco basically passes tf out when the aphrodisiac works out of his system**

**review**


	2. Chapter 2

**If you feel up to requests again in the future, I don't suppose we could get a continuation of the toothpaste MarcoAce, but with Sabo coming over to stay and accidentally using it? (Because MarcoSaboAce is my jam and your writing is my guilty pleasure, especially Ace∨ Sabo getting all messy and begging) but, you know, only if you feel inspired or motivated to do it?** requested by anon

**warnings/tags:** aphrodisiacs, unknowingly ingesting aphrodisiacs, multiple orgasms, coming untouched, coming in pants, handjobs, a continuation of and the heat is burning wild.

**ships:** saboace focus, maracebo

* * *

His mouth feels gross; that's the first thing he notices when he pries open his gummy eyes, and he smacks his mouth together, grimacing. That's what twelve hours of travel will do to you, though, he supposes, and tries to resist the urge to bury himself back under the blankets and go back to sleep.

He can see the sun peeking through the curtains, little flashes of it on the wall and he rolls over to bury his face in Marco's pillow and take a deep breath. Both he and Ace are gone but they surely can't be far.

He rolls over again, escaping from the soft mattress, and sighs, scratching at his hipbone and wandering into the bathroom. He wants to wash his face and brush his teeth and- and honestly, Marco and Ace's squished-to-death tooth paste looks like a rolled up shield bug and Sabo purses his lips. He ducks and tries to find more in the cabinets, and grumbles when he can't see anything, making his way to the guest room.

"don't use!" is written on the toothpaste he finds, and he rolls his eyes with a snort, knowing that sign is likely for Ace, who'd probably lazily use the guest room supplies without telling Marco and then be surprised when they ran out. Sabo, on the other hand, will actually mention it when Marco gets home.

Plus, he thinks with his lips curving up, he is technically a guest. It feels a bit funny on his teeth, a little sweet and warm on his tongue, but he ignores it in favour of the flavour of sharp mint that finally makes him feel like he hasn't swallowed a spiderweb.

"Sabo?" he hears called from outside, and quickly swallows the toothpaste in his mouth, poking his head out of the bathroom and giving a little wave with his toothbrush. "What're you doing there?" Ace asks just as Sabo sticks his toothbrush in his mouth again, and Sabo rolls his eyes. He gives a pointed gesture, and Ace grins in realisation. "Oh, cool. Want breakfast?"

Sabo nods, still brushing the fuzz from his mouth and frowning slightly as his head spins. He's probably still tired, which is annoying. He wants to spend the day with Ace and Marco, and being tired will put a kink in their plans.

Ace turns and walks back through the house, sweat dripping down the planes of his back, and Sabo grins appreciatively before he splutters and tries to stop the toothpaste that escapes his mouth, quickly running back to the sink. He can hear Ace's laughter from the bathroom and frowns in annoyance at himself even though he's unable to deny the warm, fond swell in his chest.

A few minutes later, still in his boxers but his mouth finally feeling decent, he wanders into the kitchen. The tiredness has come back with a better vengeance and his head is starting to swim, but he's worked with worse headaches and Marco and Ace will distract him from it soon enough. Ace is humming to himself as he bustles around the kitchen, setting the table and whisking together his recipe for french toast, and he beams when he sees Sabo leaning against the doorframe.

"Marco's just at the shops, he'll be back soon."

"Cool," Sabo says, offering Ace his own smile, but then his body seems to boil and he grunts, shifting uncomfortably. When he looks up, Ace is staring at him in concern. "It's nothing." Sabo says quickly, ignoring how he can feel his cheeks begin to flush and how the world begins to sway, "I'm- hhh."

"Woah boy," Ace says, quickly putting down his bowl and going to Sabo's side, and Sabo shudders at Ace's hands on his shoulders, helping him stand on shaking legs. His touch burns, tingles racing through him, and Sabo presses desperately closer, chasing the feeling.

"Ah- Ace…" he whines, eyes flickering shut, and Ace presses a kiss to his forehead before suddenly giving a suspicious sniff. "Wait, Sabo-" he says, running a hand through Sabo's messy bedhair, "What toothpaste did you use?"

Sabo makes a useless gesture, still trying to press close to Ace. "You'know, the- the one in the bathroom."

"The stuff labeled 'don't touch'?"

"Mm?" Sabo says, the sound barely a lilt in agreement, and Ace winces.

"Sabo that's an aphrodisiac."

"What?"

"Marco put an aphrodisiac in it," Ace says, feeling his cheeks burn both in embarrassment and at the fact that Sabo's now leaning completely against him, body warm and pliant under his hands, sides already gathering a faint sheen sweat and his sides heaving.

"Why- why the fuck?" Sabo demands, cheeks flushed bright, "Why would you keep it?"

"It says 'don't touch' on it!"

"I thought that was for Luffy!"

"You think Luffy is going to listen to a sign that says 'don't touch?" Ace says, then adds, "You think Luffy brushes his teeth without someone admonishing him into it?"

Sabo's answer dissolves into a grunt and a high whine as his hips stutter forwards, and red scores across his pale cheeks vibrantly now. He shifts, obviously trying to avoid something, but Ace can already see the bulge forming in his pants. "Oh boy," Ace mumbles, then slings Sabo's arm across his shoulder. "C'mon, this stuff wears off in water. You don't want to be like this for hours."

Sabo's hand clenches around the top of his bicep, and he looks away, hair falling in front of his face. "Well, I mean-" he starts, "did you have other plans for today?"

Ace freezes, the slow inklings of a grin spreading across his face, and he tightens his grip around Sabo's waist. "Nothing that's more important than you," he says, and listens to Sabo heave in a shuddering breath, a soft whine escaping him.

"Oh you're going to like this," he whispers into Sabo's ear, then quickly bends to pick Sabo up bridal style, knowing that it'll be easier to get him to the bedroom this way than by carrying him. Sabo gives a little yelp then latches around his neck, nails digging in above his spine. "Ah, Ace-" he pants, head thrown back and shoulders tense, "let's- fast-?"

"Trust me, Sabo," Ace says with a laugh, "it'll be fast enough."

He dumps Sabo on the sheets in quick ceremony, and Sabo whines, grasping for him and pulling him into a kiss, pressing them together. His teeth are still surprisingly neat as he bites at Ace's bottom lip, and Ace can't pull himself away even as he tries, squirming to pull his phone from his stupidly tight workout shorts. Curse Marco for being these, honestly. Ace was much more comfortable working out in his cargo shorts.

He pulls back breathlessly, finally pulling out his phone, and pushes Sabo back down when he tries to get up. "Smile," he says, smirking, and Sabo's face turns even redder when he realises that Ace has snapped a photo of him, lips red and spit-slick.

**[Ace] **might want to get home.

he texts quickly, attaching the photo to the message.

**[Ace] **someone copied your mistake

"Ace-" Sabo pleads softly, his hand palming his crotch, and Ace's attention is stolen from his phone as he watches a wet patch grow across the front of Sabo's boxers.

"Oh baby," he croons, falsely apologetic, and Sabo glares, desperate in how his head arches back. "Did you make a mess of yourself?"

"No thanks to you," Sabo mumbles, but Ace lowering himself close again, pressing his thigh against Sabo's wet crotch makes him cry out pathetically. He grinds forward hard, remembering exactly how easily he'd gotten off, and is rewarded by Sabo sobbing, back arching off the bed as he comes again, more cum flooding his boxers.

"Feels so cool, doesn't it?" he asks softly, bending to press kisses to Sabo's throat and feeling every desperate breath through his lips, and his hand skims across Sabo's hip and below his boxers, fingertips teasing his skin and making him sob and writhe. "You're burning up now, aren't you. Doesn't my hand feel good?"

"Ace- Ace-" Sabo whines breathily, thigh jumping beneath Ace's own crotch as his hips jolt, and Ace gives a quick hiss at the fleeting pressure, his toes curling. "Ace, please, again-"

Ace curls his hand around Sabo's messy cock, his cum more than enough to allow a slick slide, and Sabo cries out when Ace tightens his grip at the base and refuses to let him cum. Sabo's cock pulses in his hand regardless, trying hard as Sabo's stomach tightens, his muscles so easy to bite and lick, and Sabo growls.

"Don't fucking- tease," he orders, and Ace laughs, slow and easy in how he jerks Sabo off and makes him cry.

"Me?" he asks innocently, pulling his cum-covered hand from Sabo's boxers and working the dripping fabric off Sabo's legs, "I wouldn't dream of it."

"Fucker," Sabo hisses, but tears are gathering in the corner of his eyes and his chest is moving in short, sharp breaths. Ace leans forward to kiss him again, can taste heat and spit and salt in his mouth, but Sabo can only pant hard against his lips and barely return the favour. His eyes screw shut as Ace kisses his cheek and his jaw, and there's a glitter on his eyelashes on a flush on his face that makes Ace whisper,

"So pretty."

He grins when Sabo gives him a slit-eyed glare, and adds cheekily, "See, this is why we kept it!"

"To torture your boyfriend," Sabo says, and he's obviously aiming for flat and sarcastic but Ace's eyes gleam at the hitch in his words.

"Obviously," Ace says, then squirms lower down, mouth in a smirk as he eyes off Sabo's red, obviously aching cock. He kisses the tip and ruins Sabo's composure yet again, and Sabo's voice pitches high when he pleads,

"Don't-"

"Don't what?" Ace breathes, the air washing over Sabo's skin, and Sabo almost wails, his hips bucking and driving his cock against Ace's lips. Ace licks his cock as soon as it gets close enough, and Sabo's voice goes loud again, a swell like music that has Ace's eyes closing appreciatively. Sabo's never loud, and to hear him like this is perfect.

"So sensitive," he praises softly, and Sabo groans, one hand tangling in his own hair and the other creeping through Ace's own sweaty locks.

"C'mon," he pleads, and Ace laughs but finally complies, swallowing Sabo's cock with the ease of practice. His tongue presses flat against the base of Sabo's hard cock, but he doesn't even have to pull out any of his tricks; a single hollow-cheeked swallow and the warmth of his mouth is enough to make Sabo howl, voice in what's almost a sob. Ace tightens his hand around the base of Sabo's cock, swallowing and pulling off, showing off the few droplets of white that remain on his tongue as he grins.

"Am I that good?" he asks, but the aphrodisiac has Sabo hard now, and he only makes a whining noise, his hand tight in Ace's hair. Ace tugs it gently, pulling him off and letting Sabo fist his hand in the bed sheets instead, and Ace takes a moment to sit back and take in the sight. Cum already staining his inner thighs, cheeks stained with tears, and his cock still gleaming red and hard against his stomach.

He traces his hand over Sabo's heaving side, listening to how his breath hitches then devolves into a whine, and presses forwards to kiss him all lazy and slow, his knee between Sabo's legs and only bare pressure from where he lets Sabo rock onto it. "Ace-" Sabo whispers, voice hoarse with need, and tears drip over his cheeks, making his mouth taste like salt. "Ace, please, no, come on, please-"

"What about poor Marco? Don't you think he'd want to see you like this?" Ace asks just as softly, and Sabo keens, arching off the bed and grinding his cock against the part of Ace's leg he can reach. His body's trembling, shoulders braced against the mattress, and Ace presses kisses against his abdomen and makes him sob. He crashes back onto the bed, breath laboured and skin hot underneath Ace's mouth, and Ace can feel his cock splutter weakly against his thigh. It's painful, if the sob that Sabo lets out is any indication, and so Ace pins him down and kisses him for almost half an hour, refusing to let Sabo grind up even though he so obviously, desperately wants to.

Marco comes home to Sabo sobbing, pliant beneath Ace's hands and his nails having scored rows like tally marks on Ace's freckled back, and the first thing he does is snag Sabo's hands, pressing a kiss to the middle of Ace's spine before he tugs Sabo's hands above his head and latches them to the bedframe with his belt.

Sabo smiles drunkenly at him, eyes hazy and bright with more tears, and Marco makes a soothing noise. "Gotta give you time to recover," he says, massaging Sabo's palm, and Sabo grabs his fingers.

"Enough time," he says hoarsely, grip tightening in a way that's obviously meant to be a threat, even though his hands are shaking and he can't do much.

"Of course baby, of course," Marco says, and can't help the tiny flicker of a grin that comes to his lips. "But, you know- I might need some help putting away the groceries-"

"No!" Sabo almost howls, hips bucking up violently, and Marco watches as Ace tries not to laugh and keep his balance at the same time.

"It'd be quick," he says, in the same tone of voice he'd use when usually trying to convince Sabo, and Sabo's pleads for him not to leave become almost gibberish as he strains and writhes against his bonds and begs for them to touch him.

"You're even meaner than I am," Ace whispers, and Marco grins.

"It's not every day we get to see him like this, yoi."

"Well," Ace says, and he tilts his head towards the bathroom and the innocently packaged tube of toothpaste. "I'm pretty sure we could do something about that 'every day' thing."

Marco pulls him in for a kiss and feels Ace's cheeky grin against his lips. "It'd be such a shame if they got mixed up," he whispers, and Ace's grin widens even further.

"Oh, absolutely awful," he replies, then tilts his head, his hand resting on Sabo's abdomen and slowly stroking towards Sabo's cock. "But how about we deal with today first. Before Sabo decides to kill us."

"Oh you're already fucked," Marco says, trying not to laugh at Sabo's desperate glare and how he's biting his lip, trying so stubbornly not to let another plead escape him. "Now it's just my turn to see how loud I can get him to go. Then we'll both be in the same boat."

"A sinking ship," Ace says mournfully, but his tone is betrayed by his wicked grin and how he strokes Sabo's cock, dragging a cry from his throat. "No place I'd rather be."

* * *

**review **👏 👏


	3. Chapter 3

**Should you continue this [and the heat is burning wild /works/11486409/chapters/25771533 |||| /works/11486409/chapters/26958285] can we have an over-sensitized and whimpering Marco? The thought of him being at somebody else's mercy is just hot. ** requested by fallen_angel et all, their usename has numbers so like FUCK that lmao

BAM yah boy has finished up the trifecta

**Warnings/Tags: **Aphrodisiacs, temp play, nipple clamps, overstimulation, just a little triangle of boyfriends being assholes and getting the upperhand

* * *

The problem is this: both Ace and Sabo have had a turn riding out Marco's little aphrodisiac, and both greatly enjoyed both sight and sensation, but the toothpaste is empty and Marco's yet to have experienced it.

So they had to get a little bit more creative.

"Don't touch," Sabo chides, his arm hooked through Marco's elbow and his body pressed against Marco's side, "you know you'll just make it worse."

Marco's hand, fluttering up to his chest, paused, and Sabo grins. The flick of Marco's tongue traces his lips, but it takes a moment before his throat is clear enough to speak.

"It's already-" he stops, fumbling for the word, and Sabo leans his head on Marco's shoulder. "Distracting."

"Me or the gift?"

Marco looks down to glare at him, and Sabo bats his eyelashes, knowing his shit-eating grin doesn't help him pull off 'innocent'.

"You," Marco drawls, "are a pest. Distracting, yes, but in the same way as an insect."

"Cruel," Sabo says, mock-hurt in his tone, but Marco's sharp words do little to dampen Sabo's smile. Marco shoves his hands even further into his pockets, but Sabo can see the faint line of sweat that trickles down his temple, and the way his cheeks are flushed from the heat.

Well, that and his embarrassment, Sabo thinks to himself with a grin. He squishes Marco's arm closer to himself, a touch of comfort and possessiveness, and Marco looks down at him and offers a wan smile.

"You look so sweaty," Sabo says softly, running his hand over the bit of Marco's wrist that isn't covered by his jacket. "Are you sure you don't want to take your coat off?"

Marco snorts. "Right, and show everybody what I'm wearing."

"Promise I won't get jealous," Sabo says, fluttering his eyelashes, and Marco scoffs.

His next retort is stolen by a cashier smiling at them, and Marco offers a wan smile back, brushing off the offer of assistance as they turn down the next aisle. They unlock arms momentarily as Marco grabs juice and Sabo stays enraptured by the candy display, but a moment later he realises that Marco's trying to slide away into the next aisle and a wicked grin comes to Sabo's face.

"Hey, Mar," Sabo says, and takes quick step forwards. "Come here."

Marco's eyes go wide, and he opens his mouth for a protest; but that just makes it easy for Sabo to twist his fingers near the lapels of Marco's shirt, feeling links of chain get caught in the fabric, and pull Marco close for a filthy kiss. Marco gasps and stumbles, pulled down to Sabo's height, and Sabo grins when he presses their mouths together, loving how breathless Marco sounds, the way he uselessly whimpers into Sabo's mouth.

His fingers curl in the shirt, twisting blue fabric and slender metal, and Marco outright whimpers into his mouth, his hands falling to clasp desperately at Sabo's shoulders. It's always a delightful surprise to remember how sensitive Marco's chest is, and, no doubt, it's even worse today with all the teasing Sabo and Ace have done.

Marco barely responds when Sabo nips at his bottom lip, his body trembling, and regretfully Sabo pulls back, laying softer kisses against his lips as he leaves.

He's not nice enough to let go of the chain first; he pulls it taut, till he can see the clamps straining against Marco's jacket, and then smooths Marco's shirt back into place.

"Baaaby," he calls, tauntingly, but Marco only tightens his grip on Sabo's shoulders and doesn't speak, his breath rising and falling in desperate pants.

"Home?" he finally asks, and when he looks up, Sabo's delighted by the edge of desperation in his eyes.

Sabo pats him on the cheek. "We're not done shopping yet, darling."

* * *

Sabo drags out the shopping till Marco has to stagger back up the stairs into their apartment. As soon as he unlocks the door, he makes a beeline for the couch, not even helping Sabo take the shopping into the kitchen.

But that's the benefit of two boyfriends, Sabo thinks with a grin as Ace waylays Marco and pins him against the wall, hands flat against Marco's chest. An extra pair of hands.

He puts the grocery bags down on the kitchen table, listening to Marco's voice rise in moans as Ace does as he pleases, and each sound feels like a little hook in his skin, trying to encourage him to join in.

But they have a plan, and he'll get another turn in just a minute. He strolls to the fridge, cracking open the freezer and pulling out one of the containers of ice that he and Ace had frozen in preparation for today. The crack of resettling ice isn't audible over Marco's sudden bright whimper, but Sabo is sure it's there none-the-less.

Carrying the ice with him, he goes to lean against the doorframe and wait for Ace to notice him.

Marco's half-dressed, now, jacket lost to the hall and shirt hanging around his elbows as Ace lets his hands roam and steals greedy kisses. Between the press of their bodies, Sabo can see how flushed Marco's chest is, the vibrancy of silver steel pinching bright red into the areola of his abused nipples.

One of Ace's hands slips from Marco's waist to the clamp, and Sabo sees the sliver of Ace's eye watching him before Ace winks. He pulls back when he takes the first clip off, and the groan Marco makes is so low and guttural that Sabo shivers, a feral grin on his face.

"Nice," he says, and then shakes the box, letting ice clink together. Marco stiffens against the wall, his eyes opening and searching for the noise.

"Sabo," he whispers, "please-"

"Mmm, how long was it, that he left you?" Sabo asks, ignoring Marco entirely to look at Ace, and Ace pets along Marco's shoulders, trying to push out the tension that leaves Marco high-strung and near-vibrating.

"Two hours. Plus, riding it out - another three."

"Oof, see, that's so mean!" Sabo says, looking at Marco. "What if Ace hadn't enjoyed it?"

Marco looks pained, and Sabo figures that it's probably because of guilt, but he can't rule out Marco's clever mind figuring out why Sabo's got the ice. It's not a hard conclusion to jump to, after all.

"So, five hours, and you're barely through hour three. Why should we be nice? Ace didn't get a helping hand till you came home."

"We're home," Marco says, but the words are tight, and Sabo knows for certain, now, that Marco's figured them out.

"So we're giving you a helping hand," Ace says, but he's grinning viciously, mean like he never usually is, and Sabo feels his stomach tighten. He likes that expression on Ace's face, and even though it's not directed at him it's still annoyingly, arousing.

Ace tugs the other clip off, making Marco yelp, and then he reaches out and fishes an ice block from the container Sabo offers. In a swift movement he presses it to Marco's heated skin, and Marco yelps, hands clawing at Ace's shoulders. He presses against the wall he's leaning on to stay standing, legs shaking, but his body betrays the pleasure, pressing into the sting of ice against heat.

Pathetic whimpers fall from his mouth as Ace slides the ice off his nipple and onto the middle of his chest, and Sabo watches as water slides down the middle of Marco's abdomen, his stomach flinching away from the chill.

Unwilling to let Ace have all the fun, he snags an ice cube of his own and drops it down Marco's pants.

"Sa- Ace- ah- please-!"

The howl Marco creates is nothing short of animalistic, and it's only Ace's hands on his shoulders that keep him upright and against the wall. He squirms, desperate, and slams his palms against the wall, clawing for purchase. Desperate whimpers and unsteady sobs make his shoulders shake, and as he squeezes his eyes shut, Sabo can see the start of tears in his eyes.

Sabo presses a kiss to Marco's cheek and tastes salt on his lips. "Told you I could make him cry."

"Didn't doubt it," Ace says, pressing his mouth to Marco's chest as he slides the ice cube onto Marco's other nipple, catching Marco's hitching sobs against his mouth. He pulls back, taking both tongue and ice off Marco to watch him shake and shiver and try and regain control now that sensation has been deprived, and looks at Sabo appraisingly. "How many ice cubes do we have left?"

"Wanna guess, Marco?" Sabo asks, watching Marco's turn into little slits as he stares at them, "If you're right, we'll half it."

"Wrong?" he asks, the sound no more a grunt, and Sabo can see, from the corner of his eye, that Ace's smile is just as vicious as his own.

"Guess you'll just have to find out."

* * *

**review**


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